Six pack, thirty rack, brick wall
I'm gonna drink them all
I hate myself in a way
I hate myself every day
Flag flights, blue and white, red stripe
The animals are right, there's got to be another way
There's got to be a better way

But you don't really talk to him now
He's just a costume that you once wore
You don't really talk to him now
Don't think about him 'til you're falling on the floor
And crawling on the floor
No, you don't really talk anymore
Don't really talk anymore

You spend your time
Looking at books about New York from the 1990s
But you know it's not the same anymore
It's not the same anymore
And all your friends, every single one of them
They're unavailable
They're obsessed with taking pictures of their children
They've got one foot out the door
They were born with one foot out the door

And you don't really talk to them now
You're like a postcard that they can hang
You don't really talk to them now
Unless they call you to lethargically complain
To make fun of the old gang
No, you don't really talk anymore
Don't really talk anymore
You don't really talk anymore
Don't really talk anymore

One time, I remember
You told me I was like a child that's too smart for the lesson
But still didn't learn anything
You were my boyfriend then
Six pack, thirty rack
When are you gonna come back?
Come back and be my boyfriend again
Come back and be my boyfriend again
Come back and be my boyfriend again
Come back and be my boyfriend again
Come back and be my boyfriend again